


Never Enough Firsts

by Kiarawolf



Category: Best Friends Forever (Webcomic)
Genre: Anal, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Condoms, Fingering, I'm so sorry for dirtying up these characters honestly, M/M, Mentions of previous sex, Multiple Orgasms, Rim job, Rimming, Sex, Slash, Sloppy Seconds, Smut, bffcomic, brief mention of het sex, mentions of previous partners, safe sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-15
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-09 10:13:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,830
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4344551
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiarawolf/pseuds/Kiarawolf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Summary: When fooling around with girls, Vincent has always struggled to finish even once… his first time with Louis, however, couldn’t be more different.</p>
<p>Excerpt:  Louis grins wickedly. ‘My my, for someone who only just admitted they’re gay, you do know a bit about the specifics.’<br/>‘I’ve – I mean, the internet – ’<br/>‘Is full of porn, I know.’<br/>Vincent blushes. ‘So? Don’t you – don’t you have to – ’<br/>Louis cuts off his fumbled question with an eye-roll. ‘Please, I’m already loose from earlier.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Never Enough Firsts

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sulana](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sulana/gifts), [palletship](https://archiveofourown.org/users/palletship/gifts).



> All characters belong to Mickey Quinn (Mickey if you're reading this I'm sorry for this one...).  
> No profit is being made.

  Vincent pulls his shirt over his head in one harsh, hurried movement. Throwing it aside, he pauses to look down at Louis; pinned between his legs, the other boy gives him a sly, tilted-head grin. _Don’t think about it_ , Vincent tells himself.

  And he doesn’t. He shuts his eyes and let his hands wander, allows Louis to roll him over and nibble his ear and undo the button of his jeans. Louis’ bony weight digs into his hips and presses strangely against his ribs but a body’s a body and it’s a familiar type of weight. Vincent clings to that familiarity, thrusting his fingers into Louis’s hair and panting into his mouth as the new experiences happen one by one; Louis pulling him out of his jeans and twisting and tugging far more expertly than anyone else ever had; Louis shrugging out of his bathrobe before Vincent’s even fully shed his jocks; Louis pulling a condom out of a side draw built into his bed-nook and then rolling it down his length; Louis swallowing him down skilfully, making Vincent’s eyes roll back and his stomach clench and his toes curl; Louis wasting no time in bringing him off, twirling and licking and sucking and _swallowing_. Louis blazing a path back up Vincent’s body, gaze cocky, kisses wet, landing finally upon Vincent’s mouth where his roughed lips draw whimpers and tongue tastes like latex.

  For a while, they do little more than kiss, and Vincent looses himself in the sensations. The feel of Louis’ excitement, pressing up against his thigh, quickly has Vincent growing hard again.

  Breaking away, Louis diverges Vincent of the used condom, knots it, and leans over to another bedside-draw – evidently used as a bin – to discard it. Louis then fumbles through the previous draw, and when a second condom is flung casually over Louis’ shoulder, Vincent suddenly realises that – unlike every other time he’s had sex – this time, he may not be the person to wear it.

  The thought makes something electric shoot through his stomach, but also stirs a small panic in his chest. ‘Put it on,’ Louis orders, closing the draw (and the decision) with a slam and moving back towards the centre of the bed with a tube of lube in his hand. Letting out a breath, Vincent feels his confidence return.

  It doesn’t take him long; Vincent long ago learnt how to pinch the tip and roll the small ring of plastic down. And then Louis’s mouth is replacing his hand, working him back up to a state of near-release with his slick wet warmth, and Vincent looks at those wicked lips wrapped around his cock and groans. _I could do this all day_ , he thinks. And then Louis is fondling his spent balls as well, rolling them and tugging gently and then he’s pulling away completely, pushing Vincent down onto the pillows and kneeling over him. Louis brings their mouths together again, coating Vincent’s cock up with lube while they kiss, and Vincent feels his eyes slide shut.

  And then, hungrily, Louis moves him into position and lowers his hips down –

‘Um,’ Vincent protests, and Louis pauses, looking at him. ‘Don’t you need to…? To stretch, or…?’

  Louis grins wickedly. ‘My my, for someone who only just admitted they’re gay, you do know a bit about the specifics.’

‘I’ve – I mean, the internet – ’

‘Is full of porn, I know.’

  Vincent blushes. ‘So? Don’t you – don’t you have to – ’

  Louis cuts off his fumbled question with an eye-roll. ‘Please, I’m already loose from earlier.’

  Vincent swallows. ‘Earlier? You’ve done this already? Er – today, that is.’

‘Is that going to be a problem, Fawkes?’ Louis asks with narrowed eyes.

‘No! No – I mean, it’s… it’s kindahot.’

  Louis grins, and lowers himself back down so that the tip of Vincent’s thoroughly-slicked cock is poised just before his hole; ‘now we’ve got that sorted,’ Louis draws, ‘can we get started?’

  And for a moment Vincent squeezes his eyes shut and bites back the urge to say ‘no’; because if they stop now then the sticky dreams of first-time fumbling he’s been having for over a year now might one day come true, if he stops now it could some day be Teddy who’s poised above him, nervous and excited and the pair of them sharing this experience together. And behind the black of his shut lids, Vincent can picture it so well it hurts, a hundred wank fantasies coming together to merge into one shinning of image of Teddy’s encouraging smile, Teddy’s gentle fingers, Teddy’s small sounds of want and fuck if Vincent isn’t as hard as he’s ever been.

  He opens his eyes. And he wants to shut them again because the picture’s all wrong; it’s Louis siting up there, eyebrow quirked in silent question, expression impatient.

  _Don’t think about it_ , he tells himself, and he nods.

  And then Louis is sinking down, smooth and fluid and just like that he’s balls-deep and there’s nothing else Vincent _can_ think about.

  Louis rises up slowly, clenching Vincent’s cock all the way as though reluctant to let it go. And then he comes driving back down, welcoming Vincent back into that tight warmth. And repeat.

  Louis’ pace is slow, torturous, hip-rollingly smug, but Vincent needs more, needs _friction_ , and he grabs Louis’s hips with both hands to keep them still and opens his eyes, raises his eyebrows in question and Louis just smirks at him, whispers, ‘go on quarterback, _fuck me_ ,’ and Vincent _moans_ , lets his hips take over, thrusting up into Louis as fast as he’s able in this position, and Louis throws his head back, hair picturesque, and bites his lip. Vincent stares at Louis’ Adam’s apple as it bobs and the traces the line of his collarbone with his eyes and then he moves his gaze down, lingering on Louis’ untouched cock, pink and leaking between them.

  Vincent wants to lick it.

  His hands tighten on Louis’ hips, fingers digging in and – ‘don’t you dare bruise my skin, Fawkes,’ Louis warns.

‘I’m close,’ Vincent pants, and Louis smirks, arches his back, grabs Vincent’s hand and leads it to his cock.

  Vincent wraps his fingers around the unfamiliar length, and he tugs up as he thrusts up, and fuck, _oh_ _…_ fuck, ‘ _Louis—’_

  The sound of his name makes Louis gasp, lean forward into Vincent’s shoulder and shudder, and Vincent vaguely feels something warm and sticky splashing up his stomach but the walls of Louis’ arse are clenched so tight around him and he’s too far gone in his own pulsing pleasure to really notice. _Goodbye, Teddy_ , he thinks.

  Louis rolls off while Vincent’s still shuddering, pulls the condom away from his sensitive cock and ties it into a knot. Vincent watches, eyes half-lidded and breath panting, as Louis leans back to the draws again, throwing the whole package into the one reserved for rubbish, and then, from the other draw, pulling out a single glove and another condom.

‘ _Again_?’ Vincent exclaims, boggling at Louis; Louis looks smug, but doesn’t say anything.

  He just tears the packet open and then throws the wrapper away. Fishing a small pair of scissors from the draw, Louis cuts down the condom’s length, splitting it open.

‘Um? Louis? That’s not – ’

  Louis rolls his eyes. ‘Hold your legs up, quarterback. Unless – you don’t trust me?’

  Vincent draws his knees up to his chest. ‘Strangely,’ he mumbles, ‘I – I actually kinda do.’

‘Touching. Now, try not to scream.’

‘Wha – ’ Vincent starts, panicked, but his question is cut off by Louis bending in and dragging a tongue over his arsehole. ‘Ugh – ’ Vincent gasps, his cock somehow immediately twitching. He looks down and watches it slowly grow, surprised by how quickly he’s interested again.

  Louis increases the pace of his licking, running the flat of his tongue down from Vincent’s balls all the way to his arse and back again.

  Now that the shock of the action is not quite so prominent, Vincent notices the thin sheet of what feels like plastic separating his privates from Louis’ wicked tongue; the cut-in-half condom suddenly makes sense.

‘Gee Fawkes, Kamri’s been moaning about your soft cock for years now. She’ll never _believe_ I’ve gotten you off three times in one go.’

  Vincent stares at Louis in disbelief. No-one’s ever mentioned previous sexual partners during sex with him before. ‘It hasn’t been three times,’ he finds himself saying.

  Louis laughs, licking a particularly long stripe over Vincent’s entrance. ‘Yet,’ he promises.

  Vincent closes his eyes and leans back, letting his breathing fall into a shallow rhythm and focusing on the sensations. He can feel Louis’ gloved hand stroking circles around his arse cheeks, running up his thighs, skating in close to his over-sensitive cock… and all the while, Louis’ tongue is lapping at him, it’s surface first flat, now probing, teasing the area until his hole is fluttering.

  And then the condom is removed and Vincent hears the squeeze of the lube bottle; his mind helpfully pictures Louis smirking at him with slick, shinny fingers, and Vincent remembers ‘ _I thought about you last night,_ ’ and Vincent knows exactly what’s coming next.

  He’s done it to himself before, a couple of shame-filled, hasty times, but he’s never been able to find the special spot that is supposedly hidden there – a shot of heat spreads through his body at the realisation that Louis will be able to find it, that Louis probably knows _exactly_ where it is – and then there’s a lubed finger lightly circling his entrance and –

‘You want this, quarterback?’

  And Louis’ breath like a feather over his cock, Louis’ digit like a kiss over his hole, Louis’ voice like a caress in his mind and – ‘God yes, _Louis_ , fuck’ – Vincent realises he hasn’t thought about Teddy once since Louis pulled out that third condom and cut it open.

  The finger pushes in, burning slightly as it stretches him, and, sure enough, Louis aims straight for the prostate and –

‘ _Fuck_ , Louis, FUCK,’ Vincent is screaming, because everything is so sensitive and heat is shooting through every nerve in his body and there’s stars in front of his now wide-open eyes and his toes are _curling_ with every stroke of Louis’ finger and: ‘please, _faster_ , Louis – ugh – _more_ ,’ Vincent begs and the finger goes in and out, in and out, reaching deeper, pressing harder, building Vincent up to a place where he can’t form proper words and all he can do is moan and whimper and – he grabs his own cock, pumps once, twice, the delicious friction making all the separate fires in his body line up into one huge, engulfing –

  When Vincent drifts back to himself, he finds Louis wiping small splatters of come off his chest with toilet paper. Together with the glove and the cut-up-condom, Louis puts it all in the now-practically-full rubbish drawer.

  For his part, Vincent can barely move. He tugs the sheet up over himself and just stares, wide-eyed, at the ceiling.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Please leave a comment it will seriously make my day <3


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